


A Troubling Truth

by closetcellist, DelusionsbyBonnie



Series: Werewolf AU [4]
Category: Battle for London in the Air (Roleplay)
Genre: AU of an AU, M/M, Parasol Protectorate AU, ghost au, ghost!Irving, werewolf!Andrew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26979487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/closetcellist/pseuds/closetcellist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelusionsbyBonnie/pseuds/DelusionsbyBonnie
Summary: An AU option of this series--would take place parallel/instead of chapter 7 of "The Colonized Confederation." A different way that Andrew meets his Doctor's former lover.
Relationships: Dr Anil Jhandir/Andrew O'Rourke, Dr Anil Jhandir/Irving Suttler
Series: Werewolf AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/826248
Kudos: 1





	A Troubling Truth

The last red rays of sunset were leaking around the edges of Dr Jhandir’s velvet drapes when Andrew awoke. He stretched and yawned, luxuriating in what were still the softest sheets he had ever experienced, and rolled onto his back, enjoying having the bed to himself for a bit. The doctor was out, gone to some dinner or other social rubbish, and wouldn’t be home until later, so the evening lay before him, empty of obligations and full of possibilities. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, rubbing his eyes.

From down the hall, in the empty house, there was a quiet thump, the noise of something small but reasonably weighty hitting a carpeted floor, coming apparently from the library, though there should be no one and nothing there to cause any noise at all.

His predator’s instincts sent a jolt through him, dispelling any lingering wishes to stay in bed. He sniffed, listening carefully for any other noises, but there was nothing. He shifted as quickly and quietly as he could, then jumped down from the bed and padded silently toward the library. Still, he heard nothing. It couldn’t be a break-in. He would have known long before they got into the library, with its windows facing onto the street. He nosed the library door open and peered inside, grateful that the doctor’s meticulous housekeeping kept him from sneezing.

The library was as it should have been--almost. Nothing was disturbed except one book, which lay splayed on the floor, the place in the bookshelf where it should have been an accusatory dark hole. Above the book hovered, for that was really the word for it, the faint shape of a man--naked except for a blindfold--looking, if such a thing could be said giving the circumstances, mournfully down at it. It took a moment for the shade to notice Andrew, though once he did, he drifted quickly behind a chair, apparently embarrassed.

Andrew whuffed in surprise and quickly shifted back to human. “Sorry to disturb you.” He bent to pick up the book, setting it carefully on a table, still open to the page the ghost had been surveying. “I’m… a friend of the doc- Dr Jhandir. Andrew O’Rourke.” He started to hold out his hand to shake, then dropped it back to his side. “Didn’t know you were here.”

“I know,” the ghost said, quietly and still obviously embarrassed and using the chair to shield himself, though they were now on equal footing, clothing-wise. “You weren’t supposed to. The doctor asked me not to...bother you. But now...well, I’m Doctor Suttler. Irving.”

“How d’ye do, doctor,” Andrew answered automatically, understanding slowly dawning across his face. He struggled with what to say-- how does one avoid offending the pushed-aside ghost of a lover's former partner?-- and settled on, “He… didn't need to do that.” 

It was hardly that he didn't know Dr Jhandir was demanding, but this seemed… completely unfair and unreasonable. It wasn't as if Formerly Suttler could just pack up and go haunt some other home. The injustice was familiar.

Irving gave a half shrug and a rueful smile. “There’s plenty he doesn’t need to do. But since you’re here, would you mind getting a few books out for me?” he asked hopefully. “The doctor usually switches them out once a week or so but...I assume he’s been busy. I can just about turn the pages, but a whole book is a bit too much for me to move.”

“Of course. Least I can do. I'm not much of a reader myself, anyhow.” Andrew returned the smile. “Which ones d’you want? Besides this one, I guess.” He indicated the book he'd placed on the table. 

Irving hesitated for a moment, but then drifted out from behind the chair and over to the bookshelves, pointing out a few he was interested in. “You can leave them on the table, if you’ll open the covers.” He watched Andrew for a moment, an odd sensation from a being with no visible eyes, though the blindfold clearly no longer interfered with ghostly sight. “Does he like you, the doctor?”

Andrew hesitated only for a moment. “Yes. He does.” He pulled the requested books off the shelves, flipping them open on the table. “I'm not as naive as I look. I don't think… his initial interest in me was exactly…” He shrugged.

“You’re lucky,” Irving said, drifting over to the table to try to touch the books, mostly failing as his hand passed through the top few pages. “He never liked me very much. And he really doesn’t like werewolves, as a rule.” Irving turned his head to look at him, an almost challenging gesture.

Andrew shrugged, dropping his eyes. “I'm immortal. It's got its benefits. And I don't have to go crawling to the damn Woolsey pack every full moon.” He fidgeted with the corner of a page. “We're both conquered people.”  _ And you're the conqueror _ hung unsaid in the air, a reason rather than an accusation.

“I never did,” Irving said, drifting a little closer and looking Andrew over more properly than he had before, apparently over his embarrassment. “The doctor killed me, you know.” He said it as more of a statement than a question, and more of an off-handed comment than an accusation.

“I… wondered. It was… was it an accident?” Andrew wasn't sure he wanted an answer to that question, but he needed to know the worst. Being looked over by a ghost while nude was certainly not the strangest thing that had ever happened to him, though it was probably in the top five. 

“He says it was,” Irving said. “I believe him when I’m not angry with him. I couldn’t exactly tell because...well, it was a rather...heated moment.”

Andrew nodded. “I understand.” It was probably an accident. The doctor had his own proclivities, but he wasn't a murderer. Probably. 

“So what are you reading?” he asked, desperate to break the sudden tenseness in the air. 

“Oh, mostly medical books,” Irving sighed. “The doctor doesn’t have especially varied tastes. I might have enjoyed the books on the history of torture while I was alive, but I don’t have glands any longer, so they’re really just distressing.” He perked up after a moment. “But...you could get other books.”

“Oh sure,” Andrew agreed readily. “Not much of a reader myself, but I think I know where to go.”

“Er, I can’t exactly pay you back,” Irving said. “Unless you want me to spy on the doctor for you. I do that anyways sometimes, if I get too bored.” Or lonely, he left unsaid.

“Oh right. I… can probably get some money from the doctor. Sounds like he owes you something.” Andrew smiled wryly. “You're welcome to pass on anything you know, though. Gossip is valuable.”

“There are at least six skeletons under the floor in the basement,” Irving said. “That kind of gossip?”

“Jaysus.” Andrew looked genuinely shocked. “I… oh.” The excuse of Dr Jhandir performing surgery in the house seemed inexcusably flimsy now, and perhaps it was just his imagination, but the scent of blood seemed suddenly stronger. 

“One of them is mine, if that helps. But I saw there were more. It’s not pleasant to watch yourself get dissolved and buried, but I was so angry with him I couldn’t stop screaming at him.” Irving sighed. “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t tell you this, but it’s so  _ good _ to actually  _ talk  _ to someone else after all this time. I suppose I just wanted to get it off my chest.” 

“I… suppose I'd be angry too,” Andrew said softly. “Damn. How's he been able to keep it all hushed up? Lady Maccon her own self came to the house nosing after me, and I'm not a toff doctor.” 

He met the ghost’s-- well, blindfold, not really eyes, but it did seem that Irving still saw with that part of his face. Andrew hadn't met many ghosts. Certainly there were a good number around Dublin, and some of those very friendly and useful to the cause, but it was always Liam or Kelly talking to them, not him. This was the longest conversation he'd ever had with one. He felt a certain kinship with the man despite the differences in their afterlives.

“I think they were just people,” Irving said. “People that nobody missed. He’s incredibly interested in how to measure the soul, and how all of the supernatural set work. I think he was disappointed that I died the way I did because he couldn’t measure anything.” He tipped his head to the side and crossed his arms. “But you’ll be fine. He really likes you.”

“I like him too,” Andrew said huskily. “I might be damned for it, but I do.”

“I can’t speak to that,” Irving said, with a quiet laugh. “So far the other side is more of the same, it seems. Stay as long as you’re happy, I suppose. And don’t let him electrocute you. That’s all the advice I can give.”

Andrew nodded, quiet for a moment. “So what sort of books would you like, then? I suppose I can make a list for you.” He reached for a pencil, hands looking suddenly clumsy.

“I’d love to read some fiction,” Irving said. “Anything different than what’s here, really. Whatever is popular. I’m not picky anymore.”

“Oh sure, I'll ask the man at the shop.” Andrew dropped the pencil with relief. “My brother's a reader, but he likes theology and history and politics. Dry stuff. He's clever as the devil though. Got all the brains in the family.”

“Is he a werewolf too? I know packs are treated like family but I don’t know if family joins them together,” Irving asked, curiously.

“Oh aye, in our case we are brothers by blood. It’s a hell of a story, two werewolf brothers and one an Alpha besides!” Andrew relaxed against the table, grinning affectionately. “Liam, damn stubborn fool that he was, dogged the old Alpha into turning him. This was back before the ‘98-- the rising in 1798, I mean. They knew about our pack, that we were behind it, and… they sent a Sundowner. Got the old man in ‘98 and and two more besides in Emmitt’s rising of 1803, and we were never a big pack. If we hadn’t had Kelly-- our Beta-- we’d never have made it, not with Liam such a young wolf, no matter how strong he is.”

Andrew rubbed the side of his neck pensively, face sober. “I probably shouldn’t have asked him right after we lost the old man. Well, all right, it was six months after, but that’s no time at all. I just wanted to be right by his side, just like we always were. I think Kelly was on my side. Harper-- the Gamma, we lost him in the second rising-- challenged Liam, of course, and damn near won. Kelly knew with my strength and loyalty to Liam added in, the pack wouldn’t break. It was a bad time. Even now, there’s just four of us: me, Liam, Kelly, and O’Toole. Liam hasn’t dared try turn anyone else.”

“Goodness, that’s certainly a history,” Irving said, though he shouldn’t have been surprised--most werewolves (and vampires besides) had a long and rather violent past. “Did they come with you here? Or are they still in Ireland?”

“Still home. It wasn't part of the plan for me to stay so long, but…” Andrew shrugged. “Wasn't expecting to meet Doc, either. Liam will be furious.”

Irving tried not to look too delighted, but even with his face half-covered, his expression was still too easy to read. “Will he come here, Liam? Do you think?”

“I… don’t know. He’s never left Ireland. He’d send Kelly, if anything, I suppose.” Andrew looked uncomfortable at the thought. “Liam says I’ve terrible taste in women. He won’t like Doc. I’m sure you’ll be meeting him if he does come.”

“That will be something to look forward to,” Irving said, still looking far too pleased about the possibility, though the expression changed, really dissolved, when he heard the faint noise of the door opening downstairs, and he drifted toward the bookshelves, and then halfway inside them. “I shouldn’t keep you,” he murmured, nervous now, an odd emotion for a ghost.

Andrew nodded. “I’ll bring you some novels.” He smiled hesitantly. “I will be back. Good night, doctor.” He padded out of the room to retrieve his dressing gown before meeting Dr Jhandir downstairs. The doc was fussy about nudity sometimes. Andrew wasn’t sure how to broach the subject of money for books without sounding accusing, but he’d figure that out as he went along. Anyway, he was hungry.


End file.
